


Facsimile

by joufancyhuh



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Nonbinary Main Character, introspective fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 06:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15880722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joufancyhuh/pseuds/joufancyhuh
Summary: They may be a clone, but they're no copy.





	Facsimile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Irusu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irusu/gifts).



> I struggled with this hard, which might be why it took me so long to write and why it turned out so weird. I like the clone though. I like thinking about what the clone went through pre-Citadel DLC. 
> 
> I made the clone nonbinary so it can be whatever gender preferred for Shepard though a nonbinary Shep sounds nice. 
> 
> This is my first year doing Press Start, and probably my last considering how difficult this was to do. Thanks to barbex and bardofheartdive for betaing.

Sometimes, they want to ask whether Shepard feels insignificant when gazing out into the vastness of space. 

Standing in front of the viewport while stars and planets glisten as the ship rockets past, like tears from civilizations lost and gone, they watch from the bridge, their face a mask to the smallness that grows inside them. At the end of everything, will their actions matter? The ship is but a speck in the endless ocean of space, themself lost in the waves, carried only by the tide of Rasa’s anger. 

The reports say little about what Shepard’s answer might be, and on more than one occasion, they considered sending an encrypted message to ask Shepard themself. 

Rasa instructs them to hate Shepard, but not everything toward Shepard consists of revulsion. A respect exists there, reverence to the person from which they were born. What else comes shared other than skin and organs? The file on Commander Shepard reads well and thorough, but it lacks the emotion and reasoning behind the person. They wish they felt that, could look at Shepard’s actions and understand. Isn’t the brain another replacement organ? Shouldn’t the logic exist inside themself? 

Rasa frowns at those questions. 

But she smiles when she catches them in front of another broken mirror, blood dripping from their cut fist onto the floor. The features of Rasa’s usual hardened expression softens as she grabs the medigel and bandages, the only time Rasa will touch them. They like it best when she smiles, so they break another mirror, and another, every time they catch the smallest sight of their reflection, that shared face. 

The old Commander had scars, before Alchera. They study the way that the two of them differ, Shepard’s fingers on their hand running across smooth skin where a scar used to reside. Two close ones in the left eyebrow, received in an unknown encounter pre-Alliance, perhaps from their days out with the Reds. Acid burn on the right cheek from Akuze, where Alliance reports list Shepard as the sole survivor and Cerberus reports list Shepard as the first survivor out of two. A third cut above the top lip, from a fight with another officer during a posted assignment. 

The Shepard that appears two years later after their “death” bears none of these markings. Neither do they. Has Shepard picked up any new ones lately? They watch the reports from Diana Allers, searching for glimpses to Shepard’s wellbeing. Mostly, Shepard looks tired. Grey hair develops at Shepard’s temples, heavy wrinkles set into their brown. The war leaves a different set of scars on Shepard. 

Compared to the real thing, they appear younger, better. But what should they have to worry about, except how to please Rasa? Though pleasing her is a difficult job to accomplish, Rasa’s only goal to replace Shepard. Then they, too, would carry that weight the real Shepard lugs around. They don’t know how to confess to Rasa that they don’t want this, they want to leave, become their own person away from Shepard and the fight for humanity.

What did humanity ever do for them?  

But if they ever revealed this desire, Rasa would become irate and that rare smile of hers would fade. They don’t want this -- they only want her happiness. So they promise her success and they help her form a plot to overthrow the real Shepard. 

And as they read the dossiers, they grow envious of the people surrounding the real thing. Friends. Allies. Loyal companions. Lovers. Rasa is wonderful and beautiful, but she holds too much hatred in her heart for Shepard to ever become their lover, to ever be a real friend, though they do pretend to the otherwise. They recognize that, and it only makes them despise their reflection more. Do they not have everything Shepard has? Would these same people in the files not also be their friend, given the chance? Are they, too, not made from the same greatness as the Commander? 

Rasa goes on a recon mission days before the plot comes into play. They leave the hideaway on their own, disguised as a quarian as to not be recognized. Rasa scouts the locations, but they prefer to watch Shepard from the upper level of Purgatory. Shepard and crew hang out below, in full view from where they sit and sip a chilled drink through a straw. 

Shepard laughs, clapping a member of the crew they recognize as Lieutenant James Vega on the back. The pilot, Jeff Moreau, sits a short distance away from the two, chatting with a female mech. EDI, the report said, the ship computer itself installed into a body of its own. They could relate to wanting their own body, their own destiny.  

To see Shepard in person after hearing about them and their accomplishments is underwhelming. Shepard appears to be a regular person, nothing special about them. So why couldn’t they be Shepard? Why couldn’t they be standing there in Shepard’s place, surrounded by people who make them laugh? Shepard is  _ nothing _ , not this great being, just … average. Another person in the crowd. 

They head back to the base disappointed, and Rasa scolds them for leaving. 

Two days before the planned attack, Rasa asks if they have any doubts about moving forward. Once Rasa takes her place by Shepard’s side, most will rely on them to complete the mission. They glance up at the dark sky hanging over their head, the stars twinkling like diamonds to be grabbed, treasures to be stolen. The insignificant feeling fades in place of rage. Not Rasa’s anger, but their own, beating wild in their chest as they see for the first time all Shepard steals from them, how much Shepard owns their life. 

They’re real. They’re breathing, and that should be enough, but they want more. They want to destroy the supposed “real” Shepard. They want to claim their birthright. Shepard’s kingdom belongs just as much to them as it does to Shepard, and they mean to rip it away. Fuck the war, fuck the weight. Are they, too, not important? Are they, too, not meant to move onto greatness? To have lovers, to surround themselves with friends?

They respond to Rasa’s question with a snarled “None,” the voice much like that on the vids of the real thing. But they are real too, so isn’t that enough? All reigns must come to an end, and they look forward to seeing the right mirror at last get its due diligence. 

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism welcome!


End file.
